Compendium
by JinxRomance
Summary: SH/OC When boredom kicks in, Sherlock finds a woman almost as fun as a dead body. What starts out as a boring time in FL, turns into a murder case, and Sherlock finds that she is more then capable, leaving him wonder whether she could be of more use.
1. Chapter 1

**Alright, I know this one is short but it's just an introduction. Reveiw and tell me what you think of it please?**

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I sighed as I took another hit from my cigarette, walking along the path. You would think someone in Florida, on a Sheraton resort, would be more happy. And yet, here I am, walking along the path along the fountain, bored out of my mind.

"You know you aren't allowed to smoke." A deep voice said, making me jump. I looked over to see a man with dark hair, sitting cross legged on a chair. He sat under a patio, his elbow on the arm rest as his arm was standing straight, his blue eyes staring at me. I sniffed some, raising an eyebrow.

"Why should I care?" I asked, giving him a look that said _try it_. He smirked, tilting his head a fraction.

"Your attire says you should." My brows came together, looking at him like he was an idiot. Which, I found out, most people are.

"What are you-" I stopped short as I looked down at what I was wearing. I wined as I forgot I stole a securities officer uniform. "Er, right. Well…" I blinked, looking back up at the now amused man. "Shut up." I mumbled, walking away.

"Do you know who I am?" He suddenly said, making me jump once more as he was behind me.

"Goddamn!" I muttered, turning to glare at the man before. He was taller then I expected, a good head taller then I. "Why would I bloody know who you are?" I asked, making his smile grow.

"No reason." With that we just looked at each other, that is, until he turned on his heel and walked away. "Are you coming?" He asked, stopping and looking over his shoulder at me. I continued to stare, unsure of what this man was.

"What?" He sighed at my question, as if I were stupid.

"Well, either you can continue with your boredom Ms. Colson, which I doubt is you name, are you can come with me to lunch." I blinked once.

"I'm not bored, and my na-"

"Yes you are and no it isn't." He cut across me. And with that, he continued on walking. I stood there, unsure of what just happened. I fought against myself on what to do. Stay with my pride and act as if that man doesn't exists, continuing on with my, hopelessly, boring day. Or, follow him.

"H-Hey! Wait up!" I called, dropping my long forgotten cigarette as I ran after him.

* * *

We sat down at the resort's restaurant. There were only a couple of people inside, most others just outside at the pool area.

"How do you know my name isn't Colson?" I asked.

"Because you haven't a clue of who I am." He answered, flipping through a page with annoyance.

"What?" He sighed at me, putting the menu down as he leaned back in the chair.

"Mary Colson is the had of security at the Falls section of the resort." I continued to stare at him for two reasons. One: I stole a uniform of a head officer, and two: He seems to know that. But, I decided I wanted to play it out, not give anything away.

"I still don't see how that means I'm suppose to know you." He smiled at that.

"You, are not suppose to know me. _She_ is." He said, gesturing to the name tag on my-her shirt. I continued to stare at him, completely lost. He sighed once more. "Every security head was informed of me two days ago by my collogue." My eyebrows shot up at that.

"Why?" I asked, and he looked away, taking a sip of his water.

"An experiment." He muttered, putting the glass down. "So, this leaves me not knowing who you are." He continued, making me shake my head.

"The real question is, who are you?" He smiled at this. An arrogant, annoying smile.

"Sherlock Holmes. Consulting detective."


	2. Chapter 2

"How did you do it?" A cop asked, crossing his arms.

"Easily." I said with a shrug, making both cops shake their heads.

"So, this is a confession?" The same cop asked and I stared at both of them, brows together.

"It's not that big of a deal." I muttered, looking away. There was a tense silence before the main cop slammed his hands on the table.

"You are one sick person!" I stared at him, a bit bored and a bit confused. These resort people took stealing a bit too far…

"Dude, it's not like anyone cares! No one even noticed! Well, until now." I said the last part more to myself.

"That's it!" The other cop in the room said, walking over and grabbing my arm.

"Hey!" I growled as he made me stand. I could feel the blood stopped where he held my arm. "What the fu-" The door to the security room opened. My mouth dropped as none other then Sherlock Holmes sauntered in, a man limping came in behind him. He stopped in front of the square table, hands in his pockets as he did a once over on me, eyes staying a fraction of a millisecond on the hand that was on my arm before looking to my face.

"You are quite good at making things worse." He said with a sigh, before looking to the cop holding me. "I suggest you release her." He said, almost bored like.

"Why's that Mr. _Consulting detective_?" The man asked, saying it with disgust.

"Because she was with me at the time of the murder." My head snapped to Sherlock, eyes wide.

"_What?"_ I nearly choked. _Murder_? Well… At least now I know why there were making me stealing such a big deal… I winced as I thought about what I said. God, I always seem to dig myself deeper.

"You have any proof freak?" The cop asked, only to make Sherlock sigh. He pulled something out of his pocket before holding it out to the side to the head cop.

"A receipt from the restaurant we went to." Both the man that walked in with Sherlock and I stared at him with brows together. "The date and time are on the bottom." He continued as the cop took it.

"Let her go." The leading one said, sighing.

"You've got to-"

"Just do it." With that, the man let me for and I stuck my tongue out at him. The three of us left, and once outside I stopped and glared at Sherlock.

"What in the _hell_ did you do to me?" I asked, punching his chest. The shooter man with him looked at us with wide eyes, as if I just set off a volcano. Sherlock merely just stared at me with a raised eyebrow.

"I myself didn't do a thing. Well, except gave you an alibi." I glared at him, the short man stared at me confused, and Sherlock looked amused at all of this. "Come John." He said, I'm guessing to the short man, and turned on his heels walking away. The shot man, nodded at me with a sad smile and limped after Sherlock, making me glare. I took off one of my shoes and threw it at the back of Sherlock's head. It was as if I hit a switch, making time freeze. As he slowly, far too slowly, turned around to stare at me with narrowed eyes, I realized that, that maybe wasn't the best idea I've ever had. But this man sends my rage into a whole new spiral! Not three hours ago he blatantly told me everything I've ever done, felt and thought in my life, leaving me feeling hollow. And now, out of no where, I was arrested because they thought I _murdered_ someone?

"Look here detective-"

"Consulting detective." He said, looking away as if bored. My eye twitched, my vision seeing red.

"Fine. Look here you ignorant, arrogant, son of a bitch, fucking _**consulting detective.**_" He smiled, and if I knew any better, which I did, it was the fakest smile he could muster. "Whatever is going down, I. Want. In." The short, blond hair man at this point had walked away, looking both terrified and intrigued, but decided against staying.

"Why?" Sherlock asked, eyes narrowed. He looked as if he were trying to dissect me, his cold, blue eyes trying to open my mind to understand. I looked right back, not afraid of this man.

*Sherlock's POV*

I laid on the couch, bored.

"Sherlock." John said, coming out of his bedroom. "Why are you doing this?" He asked, standing in front of the oval table by the couch.

"Doing what?" I asked, sighing.

"Oh don't play dumb!" He groaned, making me smirk.

"Never have to."

"Look, I know your bored, but this!" He was whispering now, holding his hand out to point to the patio. "Is insane!" He said, as if scolding me.

"Her name." I said, stopping whatever he was going to say next to annoy me further. There was a long pause before he spoke again.

"So. You took her to lunch, stopped her from being arrested and now are letting her stay here with us to help with the case, all because of her _name_?" He asked, making me scuff.

"Don't be silly John." I said, smirking a bit. "I took her to lunch because I knew she would be blamed for the murder, being as she was wearing the uniform of the deceased."


	3. Chapter 3

"Oh!" John said as he came outside onto the patio. "Uhh, did you go to sleep last night?" He asked as he sat down in the chair next to me.

"Nope." I said, still looking out to the pond.

"Have you seen Sherlock by any chance?" He asked a bit worried. I glanced over at him, smirking.

"You act like his mother." Ohhh, that earned a nice little glare. No one has any sense of humor any more. "Yeah. He swept off at around two this morning." I sighed, looking back to the pond.

"You wouldn't happen to know where he is… Do you?" He questioned, leaning back as if he already knew the answer.

"Haven't a clue, though he did said something about a freezer and a cadaver. Then as he went by the patio he was mumbling something along the lines of 'No panties' and 'sliced pickles'." I answered, looking over to John. "I decided against asking."

"Good choice." And with that we stayed silent. "I'm really sorry, but what's your name?" He ventured, as if he were scared of the answer. God, these people are a bit out of the loop.

"Cassandra. But you can just call me Cassie." He nodded his head some, leaning back into the seat once more, before popped back up.

"Does it have any special meaning?"

"Not that I know of." I said, glancing at him with a raised eyebrow.

"Any other names you go by?"

"Nope." He leaned back in the chair again, face contorted in thought. I, once again, decided not to ask. I've come to the conclusion that anything dealing with Sherlock is something I really, really don't want to know. Not a moment later, Sherlock came running by. We watched him go out of sight, then come back into sight, jumping off the gazebo and diving into the water. John and I sat there a minute, watching the stilling pond. "You think he's dead?" I asked, lighting a cigarette.

"One can only hope." He sighed, sipping his water.

"What do you think he's doing?" I asked, watching as he popped back up for air, then diving back in.

"Looks like he's swimming in the pond." He said, looking at his watch.

"What are you doing?" I yelled as he came back up for air.

"Swimming in the pond!" He yelled back, then went back underwater. John smiled, shaking his head.

"Do you have any idea what you have gotten yourself into?" He asked as we both watched him surface once more, looking all around the rather large area of water in frustration.

"I'm starting to get an idea." I muttered with a smirk.

"Will one of you blundering fools help me!" He shouted at us, going back under water. We stared at the water for a second before looking at each other.

"Rock, paper, scissors?" I asked. With a nod, we both went.

"Damn." I muttered, standing and taking my jacket off. "Well, at least I can cross off 'Swimming in a filthy pond with a raging psychopath' on my list of things I must do before I die."

* * *

I was in the shower, letting the hot water run on me as I tried to forget about the nasty pond I just spent an hour in. It would seem he was looking for the knife that killed Colson. Said it was only logical it would be in that pond even though there was one at every complex.

"You know what I don't understand?" At the sudden voice I slipped and fell onto my back, hissing in pain. I opened the curtain only to show my head, staring at Sherlock, who currently sat against the door, legs stretched out. He smiled at me and I groaned, closing the curtain and standing, wincing some as my back was now hurting.

"Privacy?" I spat.

"Hm? What, oh no! I understand that fully. I just choose to ignore it." I hit my forehead against the wall. "What I don't understand is why woman take so long in the bathroom. What could possibly take so long?" I shook my head at his question. This man is absolutely bonkers.

"What are you doing in here?" I tiredly asked.

"Ugh, John is being dull and sightseeing. Refuses to entertain me." He groaned.

"So you bother me in the shower?" I growled, glaring at him as I popped my head out of the shower. He stared at me confused.

"I'm not in the shower." I groaned once more, pulling my head back in. For someone so smart, he was very simple.

"Will you just get out so I can get changed?" I almost pleaded.

"What? Afraid I might see something of the female anatomy I've never seen before?"

"No, Sherlock. It's a matter of your being polite and me having some pride." I shot, only to be further annoyed.

"Polite is boring and you don't have pride." I paused at his response, looking up in thought. I knew I should be angry, but the smug bastard was right. I sighed and turned the shower off, climbing out."Alright then, so what is it?" I asked as I began to dry off.

"This case." I sighed, hitting the back of his head on the door. "Doesn't make sense. There are, of course, the obvious parts." I rolled my eyes as I put on some underwear.

"What's obvious about any of this?" I asked, looking at him as I put a bra on. I found it both amusing and weird as he looked at me, not a single hint of lust, want, or sex in his eyes. He merely seemed… Bored.

"She was stabbed in the back, literality, by a knife, but the murderer shot her to make it seem more brutal then needed be. That leaves us with a love quarrel." I put on pants and a shirt, kicking him so he would move. "What I don't get is why. _Why_ did they do it?" He stood and followed me through the living room and into the patio, me sitting in my normal chair, and him standing in front of the screen, staring at the pond. "You're more muscular then you look." He suddenly said, keeping his back to me.

"Yeah, well, liv-" I cut myself off, only to have him look at me over his shoulder, calculating eyes narrowed. Then they grew wide, a smile growing on his face.

"Ohhh, yes!" He suddenly said, turned and sitting in the chair behind him. He sat there a moment , staring at me, before, smiling once again. "I had it all wrong, at the restaurant the other day!" He shook his head, laughing some. "Why didn't you tell me! Ugh, never mind, don't answer that. Dull question anyway." He shook his hand before his eyes went back to me. "How long then?" He did a once over on me with his eyes. "Hm, yes, now that I know what I'm looking for I can see it." He smiled that sarcastic one of his. "It's not that you were kicked out by your parents at a young age, it's that you've never _had_ parents." I clenched my jaw at this, narrowed my eyes at him.

"Don't." I growled, but he went on anyway.

"You lived in foster care until you were, what? 13? Yeah, sounds about right. Snuck out and have been living on your own. Well, not living. Been sneaking into places like this." He tilted his head a fraction. "Use to be a street rag woman to get a place to stay, money and food. But found that you couldn't live like that anymore and moved here." My hands turned into fists as he went on, body in full rage. "You're smart. Very smart. Too keen for people to handle." He raised an eyebrow now. "You don't like people. They infuriate you. So dull and blissfully unaware of how real life is. You've had sex, but never had any lovers. Emotions scare you. You see what it does to people. So, you created a shell. And now, any kind of human connection you almost cower at it. Kind of pathetic actually." With that I stood and walked out of the door that lead to the walking path around the pond. There was only so much I could take form this man.


	4. Chapter 4

I was walking by the patio Sherlock and John stayed at, only to be pulled into the door.

"What the hell-"

"Take your shirt off." Sherlock said as he took his suit jacket off. My brows came together as he pulled me inside and all the way to his room, letting go and going to the dresser.

"As flattered as I am, why am I taking my shirt off?" I asked as I took it off, only to have him throw a shirt over his shoulder at me.

"We're going under cover." He said as he turned around and took off his buttoned up shirt, me raising an eyebrow at him.

"As what?" I wondered, only to be left without thoughts as he turned back around to walk to the closet, shirtless. For someone as skinny as a stick, I really didn't expect him to have that much muscle. In fact, it looked as if there was no fat, just skin and muscle.

"Either you can stand there like a hormonal imbecile or you can help me figure out who killed Mary Colson." He said, turning to look at me with narrowed eyes. I Cleared my throat as I looked away, putting the shirt on quickly. "Good. Now," He put on a normal T-shirt, spinning and looking around. "American… Think American…" He muttered, scrutinizing every aspect of the room. He snapped his fingers and swept out of the room, making me sigh. I followed him into the living room, only to have him throw glasses at me. "Put those on." He said as he put on some jacket that said 'Universal Studios' on it.

"Where did you get that? You don't really seem like the type to buy something from Universal-" He turned to look at me and I sighed, putting the glasses on, only to instantly take them off.

"Sherlock! These are prescription! I can't see a damned thing with them on!" I scolded only to have him sigh.

"Just hold my hand and stay close to me." My brows came together as he said this. "We are going incognito as a married couple. Friends of Mary. Come." With that he put the glasses on me, grabbed my hand and nearly ran outside.

"Why are we going undercover?" I asked, tripping over a step in the sidewalk. He held onto my hand tighter and pulled me along, making sure to not waste time in me tripping. "I though it was your job to solve murders?" I asked, only to have him sigh.

"It is. But they seem to think they don't need my help. So, before anymore bodies show up, I'll solve it before they can even think a proper thought. Which actually seems to take longer then I thought." He said and swept up steps to a room in the cascades part of the resort. "Now try to act sad." he muttered as he knocked on the door. As it opened I looked down, Tightening our laced fingers as I placed my other hand on his arm, unsure of what to do.

"Hello?" A deep voice asked, a bit shaky.

"Oh! Hi there." Sherlock said without an accent and almost shaking. I looked up, above the glasses, to see a tear fall down his eye. Whoa. Talk about extreme acting. "My name is John Watson," I held back a smile. "And this is my wife, Lauren." I took my hand off his arm and shook the large man's hand, unable to see how he looked. All I could see was he was tall, large, and had black hair. Other then that he was a white blur.

"Uhm yes hello there… How can I help you?" He asked. Sherlock sniffed, moving the arm I was holding and holding my waist.

"Yes. You see, we just got wind of what happened to Mary. She was a dear friend of ours." I nodded my head sadly as I did my own sniff, resting my head on his arm.

"I haven't heard of your names before." He said, seeming a bit cautious. Sherlock let out a shaky breath before talking once more.

"Yes, well ever since she got this job we haven't seen her." Sherlock said, probably coming up with that on the spot. The man was a bloody brilliant actor and lair.

"Right… Come on in I guess…"

* * *

I sat, arms crossed as I glared at the mirror window thing.

"Something isn't right." Sherlock muttered, pacing the small room.

"Oh, you mean besides the fact that both of us are black listed and now held under contempt?" I muttered, glaring as he continued to pace. He dismissed me by waving his hand, and continued on with his pacing.

"Something he said… Something doesn't fit…" He muttered once more.

"Do you even have a plan?" I asked, and he sighed, turning to glare at me.

"John shall be round shortly to pay our fee and we shall be on our merry way. _Now_, if you'd please shut your mouth as so I can figure out who killed Mary." He returned to his pacing and I stuck my tongue out at him.

"Touchy, touchy."


	5. Chapter 5

"I just can't put my hand on it John, but something that man said was wrong!" Sherlock said as the three of us walked out of the security ward and onto the sidewalk back to their complex.

"It doesn't matter! You are now black listed and under penalty of death to leave. The case. _Alone_." John said, putting his jumper on and rushing ahead as Sherlock stopped.

"He can be so dramatic sometimes." He sighed, then fixed his own coat and continued to walk.

"I think he has a point." I said, walking next to him.

"Hm? Why's that?" He asked as he got his phone out and began typing.

"Sherlock, Under penalty of death is kinda a big deal." I muttered, only to have him groan.

"Ugh, death. Death is boring." He said, stopping in front of the door. I waited, then finally looked up at him confused. "Card is in my left pocket." he said as he continued to type. I growled a bit as I dig into his pants pocket and took the card out. As I took my hand out, we locked eyes, his face close to mine. "Careful." Raising an eyebrow, smiling and tilting his head just a tic. My heart jumped as he stared at me, his face so close to mine, but I shook it off. I used the key to open the door, him coming after me. As I plopped onto the couch, Sherlock began to pace. "Alright, think, _think!_" He muttered, going back and fourth. I put my legs on the table and turned the TV on, ignoring him as he paced in front of it. "I have to get into that house." he muttered, making me stare at him.

"You really aren't that bright are you?" He stopped and glared at me. "Look, you are already under a tight thumb. You can't just go breaking into someone's room!" He raised an eyebrow at me, blue, calculating eyes boring into mine.

"Who said I'm doing it?" He asked as he continued to stare at me. My face slowly fell as I realized what he meant.

"Oh boy…"

* * *

"Stupid know-it-all little fucker." I muttered as I entered the living room. It was dark and no sounds, telling me he wasn't in, thank God. With the moon light and some of the light from the pond, I had enough light to see. As I made my way to the desk up against the large mirror, my phone went off. My brows came together as I realized I didn't have a phone. I looked all around, finally reaching into my pocket to pull out a phone, on the screen it read 'Sherlock'. "Ho- never mind." I muttered as I answered it.

"What have you found?" He asked in his deep voice, making me roll my eyes. I pressed the phone against my ear with my shoulder as I began to thumb through the desk.

"I've been here 40 seconds. Chill." I said, picking up a envelop.

"You've been there 47 seconds." I shook my head.

"I was rounding."

"Don't. It's a useless and disgusting habit. Now. What have you found?" I sighed as I closed the draw, going into the bedroom.

"Nothing. The place is clean." I said with a sigh, looking through the drawers.

"Everybody lies." I smirked as he said this.

"You watch House?"

"What?"

"Nevermind." I muttered, figuring he wasn't someone who watched T.V. I sighed and sat on the bed. "Sherlock, there's nothing he-" I stopped, brows together.

"What? What is it?" he asked, but I ignored him as I stood, closing the door. "Cassandra, what have you found?" I clicked the phone off, putting it in my pocket as I stared at the piece of paper taped to the door. It was a schedule for both of them.

"He was right, but not about the guy lying…" I looked down then, brows coming together. I then looked up, shooting out of the room and outside, running to the restaurant.


	6. Chapter 6

*Sherlock's POV*

I paced the floor, tension running high. "_Sherlock!"_ I only made a grunt, telling John I was listening for them moment. "Have you seen my phone? I've been ringing it but-"

"Cassandra has it." I saw out of the corner of my eye that he sighed, looking down and shaking my head.

"Should I even bother to ask why?" He ventured and I sighed, stopping as I faced the glass doors to the patio, back to him.

"I gave it to her because she was breaking into a apartment." He sighed as I said this.

"Well, where is she now?"

"She hung up on me, and I haven't heard from her since." I sighed and put my hands on my hips.

"Great. Now I need to get a new phone." He muttered and I glared at him over my shoulder.

"She could have been either kidnapped or killed, and all your worried about is your phone?" He stared at me as I at him.

"What the real question is why _you_ care." I clenched my jaw, then looked back to the patio.

"Noooo." He nearly whispered, and I sighed.

"What?" I asked sharply, only to have him come next to me, staring at me.

"You… No…" He licked his lips before continuing, my patience running thin. "You feel…. _Guilty_, don't you?" He said, and I paused for a minute.

"No." I deadpanned, looking back out the window. "We just need to get that killer. And figure out why he killed Colson." As I said this my phone went off. I grabbed it and glanced down at the screen.

"What is it?" John asked, but I ignored him as I opened the message and read it.

"Just Lestrade trying to tell me to leave the case alone." I said and tucked the phone back in my pocket, the message pulsating in my mind.

_Café. 2 AM. Come alone or girl dies._

* * *

I walked into the dark Café that Cassandra and I went to. I looked around in the dark, not seeing anyone. "Did you decided to skip?" I called out, only to be rewarded with a cry of pain. My head shot to the kitchen door where a light was on, knowing that scream came from Cassandra. Then out walked the Hispanic was served us that first day we met. "I see." I murmured, watching his movements.

"Yes. Even the great Sherlock Holmes couldn't figure it out." He said proudly, and I wanted to sneer, but kept my face calm.

"Well, I get it now." I said and his face fell. "You were having an affair with her, weren't you?" I questioned and he smiled.

He held his arm up. "Shall we chat in better light?" He asked as he pointed to the kitchen.

"Let's." I said coolly and we both walked to the kitchen. I saw him close the freezer door before he turned to me, black eyes shining. "So, what's the master plan? Affair gone wry and you needed an out before she told her husband?" I said and he laughed.

"Not quite. Try meth makers/sellers." My eyes narrowed at that.

"So, you stopped her before she could tell?" I asked and he smiled.

"Finally got one right!" He congratulated but I only glared.

"So, I'm guessing I'm going to have to kill you now because your not going to come quietly, are you?" I asked, and he smiled slowly

"Your catching on." He raised his arm, a gun in his hand. "But you have nothing and I have this." With that he smiled. "Goodbye you nuisance."

In a split second, he pulled the trigger and I ducked to the side and I pulled John's gun from my waist. The bullet grazed my cheek as I shot behind him, me watching as it hit the metal freezer door and recoiled and lodge itself in the back of the waiter's head, killing him instantly. I stood up straight and straightened my jacket as he fell to the floor, dead.

"How boring." I murmured as I walked over to the door and opened it, seeing Cassandra laying on the ground, skin blue. I walked in and picked her up, walking out and sitting down on the floor, warming her up with my jacket.

"Sherlock?" She shivered opening her eyes to look at me.

"How do you feel?" I asked trying to see if there was any pain to make sure he didn't break any bones.

But then she did the oddest thing. She _smiled_. No one but me would come out from a situation like this and _smiled_. I just stared at her with an odd look as she passed out, unsure of who this girl truly was.


End file.
